


i picture it soft and i ache

by metalmouth



Series: wandering the roads of love [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Confessions, How Do I Tag, M/M, Minor Violence, Pining, Stabbing, Unresolved Romantic Tension, also i talk too much in the tags lmao, and sexual if you read it that way i guess?, less biblical references but i do think tinsley refers to him somewhat angelic, only slight! i promise!, tinsley takes care of his golden boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 21:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19185955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalmouth/pseuds/metalmouth
Summary: If you told Tinsley even five weeks ago that he would be patching up a notorious criminal he would have laughed in your face. Tell him he would be so close as to know the different laughs Goldsworth had, he would have thrown you in jail and 'misplaced' the key.Guess people change.





	i picture it soft and i ache

Tinsley held the bedside lamp tighter in his hand, hiding in the shadows of his dark bedroom. He was abruptly awoken as somebody was clearly in his apartment, groaning like a zombie and trying their best to be silent. Immediately his body lit on fire with the familiar burn of anxiety churning in his stomach.

 

He could tell by the murmured curses and the sharp intake of breath through their teeth, no matter however faint. It sounded like they were dragging something as they limped. Whatever it was, it sounded like it weighed a thousand pounds. His detective instincts instantly suggested a dead body, or possibly worse, a bag full of all sorts of torture devices. He drummed the lamp with barely-concealed anxiety and dread, his heart in his throat, as the figure lumbered closer and closer. 

 

The doorknob jiggled as the intruder turned it the wrong way. Tinsley watched it with restlessness as the door slowly opened. He raised the lamp higher over his head and was about to let it slip from his fingers when a familiar but strangled voice rang out. 

 

"Tinsley?" 

 

A hand shot out to grope at the wall, blunt fingernails scratching against the drywall. Tinsley's brain lagged behind as he darted away from the wall and peering at the figure in his doorway. His bedroom illuminated, which gave Tinsley's eyes a quick white flash before settling. 

 

The detective stood there quite stupidly with his mouth agape and clutching the lamp as if his life depended on it.

 

Well, it kind of did even for a few seconds. 

 

His eyes scanned the bloodied and bruised Ricky Goldsworth, powerful and dominant as ever even with a discombobulated appearance. He was clutching his thigh tightly with some ripped piece of cloth, tinted dark red. He wore a lazy smile, clear pain in his eyes. Tinsley still stood there, his brain clearly not completely caught up yet.

 

"You were going to bash an intruder's head in with a lamp? Where's your gun, oh brilliant detective?" Goldsworth chuckled with a great deal of effort. The nickname,  _ detective _ , rolled off his tongue so sweetly and Tinsley grew pink in his cheeks. 

 

Then, Tinsley was reanimated and softly plopped the lamp on his chaotic bed. Not once did his eyes wander from Goldsworth. He straightened himself out, suddenly embarrassed at his choice of pajamas and smoothed down the wrinkles subconsciously, trying to appear professional. (Well, how professional can you be with pajamas that have teddy bears all over them?) He opened his mouth to address him but he quickly shut it. He had no idea what to say. 

 

Seemingly understanding Tinsley's nonverbal reaction, Goldsworth spoke, "Had a.. friendly disagreement. He stabbed me." Goldsworth shrugged like he was talking about something so casual. It looked like the 'friend' did more than just stab him. Bruised knuckles, a few cuts on his arms, (shallow, he hopes) and a busted lip to sport. He had seen better days. 

 

"Friendly disagree-" Tinsley sputtered in disbelief and then shook his head, "You know what, not important." He waved his hand.

 

"You're bleeding." 

 

"Thanks, Detective, couldn't figure that one out."

 

Tinsley darkened as Goldsworth laughed. One that reached into Tinsley's chest and squeezed at his heart. It reminded Tinsley of two friends poking fun at each other, bantering and telling each other off. Not exactly how he would describe his…  _ acquaintanceship  _ with Goldsworth at all. 

 

"Here," Tinsley walked forward and gestured at his shoulder. Goldsworth looked at him and, taking a deep breath, and threw his arm over Tinsley's shoulder. Tinsley's arm snaked around Goldsworth and gripped his waist. 

 

The tips of Tinsley's ears blushed a bright red and they slowly ventured toward what the apartment qualifies as a living room. He set Goldsworth down painstakingly as if he was one of his grandmother's china. The good ones, always in the cabinets and only for display. He remembered fondly when he was a child and was scolded for using one to drink Kool-Aid out of. 

 

The detective searched the kitchen thoroughly until finally stumbling upon an unopened first-aid. He opened it and mentally checked off a list before closing it and bringing back to Goldsworth. 

 

He was putting on a brave face but Tinsley knew that it was a bitch to get stabbed anywhere in general, with first-hand experience. Tinsley flashed a smile of what he hoped displayed reassurance. Goldsworth gave him a small smile filled with a nervous energy that sent Tinsley reeling. His heart sped up.

 

Tinsley felt the heat radiating off of Goldsworth and if he even moved an inch, their knees banged together. If you told Tinsley even five weeks ago that he would be patching up a notorious  _ criminal _ he would have laughed in your face. Tell him he would be so close as to know the different laughs Goldsworth had, he would have thrown you in jail and 'misplaced' the key. 

 

Guess people change.

 

He placed the kit on his lap and glanced down at the wound. 

 

"You can take the cloth off now.. I hope these weren't your favorite pants." Tinsley cracked a smile, peering at Goldsworth. 

 

Goldsworth laughed and shook his head, "Just my damned luck, huh?" 

 

He smiled so brilliantly at Tinsley, he swore the world stopped. He slowly moved his hand and cloth away from the wound and presented it as a sick gift, the crimson blood mostly hiding the severity. Goldsworth grimaced when the blood bubbled up and dripped away. 

 

Tinsley murmured a thanks and set to work. He opened the first-aid, grateful for the scissors safely stored away and began cutting the pants a little wider. He wet a small rag with rubbing alcohol and cleaned the wound until the rag itself turned red. Goldsworth's leg involuntary tensed as he flinched away and grimaced.

 

"Hold still," Tinsley glanced up to meet Goldsworth's gaze, finding him already staring at him with those dark piercing eyes. Tinsley held his breath, the rag poised above the wound. Any sudden movement and maybe Goldsworth would stop looking at him, which was the last thing Tinsley wanted. 

 

Of course, the detective would never voice this to anybody, not even for a million dollars but Goldsworth was attractive. He won't deny it nor explicitly say it aloud. The way he carried himself with such dominance that overpowered the entire room every time he stepped foot inside. It was attractive and extremely unsettling. How he can shut you up with a look, even send you to your death with one motion. But right now as Goldsworth stared at him with such lovely brown eyes, soft and full of quiet respect, Tinsley could die at this exact moment with no complaints. There was an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes, never given to him before except for past girlfriends and flirting witnesses which shook Tinsley to his core; the sole cause of his sleepless nights. The one case he might not solve.

 

Goldsworth cleared his throat loudly, dragging Tinsley from his thoughts and pointedly looked away, interested in what the first-aid kit had to offer. He licked his lips. 

 

He muttered, "Thanks, C.C.." 

 

It was criminal. How well Goldsworth could unravel him. Unlike anybody ever has before. He looked down at the wound and wiped it once more, attempting to occupy his hands. Right. Head in the game. He cleared his throat as well.

 

"It's… it's no big deal," Tinsley hesitated before finishing, "Ricky." 

 

They lapsed into silence as Tinsley carefully began dressing the wound as slow as a sloth.

 

Eventually, Tinsley taped the bandage's end down and ran his fingertips over it to ensure it was down, silently appreciating how toned his thighs were.

 

"There," Tinsley breathed softly as if it would startle Goldsworth, "I've done all I can."  

 

He glanced up to the criminal and found him watching Tinsley intensely. He let out an awkward smile before looking down on how their bodies entwined. 

 

They were basically tangled together, Tinsley's knee slightly rubbing against Goldsworth's leg as their arms were pressed together. Goldsworth inhaled sharply and assessing his wound. He nodded and stood up, effectively removed himself from Tinsley's touch. The detective instantly missed the heat. 

 

"You did good, tinman, for an amateur," Goldsworth teased with a half-smile on his face. 

 

Tinsley scoffed, mock-offended and placed his hand over his heart, "Be happy I didn't throw you out of the window like I should've done." 

 

"You like me too much to do that." 

 

Tinsley's brain short-circulated and couldn't think of anything good enough to combat the remark. 

 

"Well, that's my cue. Got a friend to visit." Goldsworth laughed dryly and turned away from the sitting detective. He didn't even make two steps before Tinsley shot up from the couch. 

 

"Woah, so soon?" As soon as that slipped out of his mouth, Tinsley internally slapped himself and quickly tried to recover. "I mean, you've got a  _ knife wound  _ in your leg. You're not really in the position to fight."

 

Goldsworth turned around and stuffed his hands in his black suit jacket. He stood like he wasn't just bleeding an hour ago. Tinsley hated it. No weaknesses.

 

"Who said I'm fighting?" He smirked, clearly implying he has people to clean up loose ends for him. 

 

"Look, at least, stay the night? I don't want you to ruin the work I just did." 

 

Tinsley held his breath. He watched Goldsworth think it over in his head.

 

What seemed like hours passed when Goldsworth sighed. 

 

"Sorry, lover boy, can't let a crime go unpunished now can we? (Tinsley furrowed his brows, clearly remembering all the unsolved cases Goldsworth left in his wake. Goldsworth smiled.) If it gets worse, I'll go straight to my favorite doctor, okay? Pinky promise." Goldsworth leaned forever with a smile that showed off all his teeth. Tinsley chewed on his bottom lip, sweating profusely at the nicknames Goldsworth just spewed out. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. 

 

Goldsworth smiled. He won this time. "See you very  _ soon _ , C.C. Tinsley." Goldsworth drawled on, emphasizing every vowel. He turned his back on Tinsley and he watched the man open the front door and click it shut behind him. 

 

He stood there and watched the door for a few moments more, slightly hoping that Goldsworth would pop in again but when there was no such moment, Tinsley blew air out of his nose. He walked back to his bedroom and shut the door softly. Tinsley placed the lamp back on his bedside table, blinding himself when he plugged it back in, shut off the lights and clambered into bed. His heart was heavy. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> look,,,, listen,,, i wanted to post this. literally. two weeks ago. i can't keep my shit straight nor together. :) but i wanted to write more of my boys due to a tumblr post i found four weeks ago but now i don't think i could find it. oh well. :D i hope u enjoyed or,,, whateva
> 
> tumblr : blowmedemons


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